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Victrolas And Creaking Bones
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Through The Looking Glass
Somewhere...
A meat suit has reached a degree of decrepitude beyond redemption & repair.
Its skeleton clangs forth chipping away at itself as boney dust swirls about its stale air.Existing only in its primary function of ensuring each remaining nerve is
pinned between bone and rusty bone.
Enfeebled thoughts rattle on in loop upon perpetual loop like the echos of a Victrola on its last crank, playing the same record time and time and time again..
Each time a bit slower than the last.
Suddenly,
A bright incandescent glow illuminates from above..
An inner dialogue rejoices in that it must be Almighty God,
reaching down from the heavens , to aid in his ascension!
But why did it get so noisy in here?
I don’t recognize these people?
A cold horror creeps up each vertebrae of your brittle crooked spine.
A bead of sweat wiggles itself out of a tightly clenched pore..
As a Disembodied voice...
starts to break through the slow echo-chamber like chasm
of Victrola music and creaky Bones..
A voice speaking directly into your ear ...from some odd bug
that has crawled in deeply...and nestled itself comfortably inside.
”Mr President, You’re live, say something goddamit”
“Mr President, read from the teleprompter”
“Dont do this to us again! Joe....say something “
“For gods’sake somebody go up there and help him”
Your comment I think I understand how it’s relatin’..
Your comment I think I understand how it's relatin'
To the type of country we find ourselves in the state in
While those on the right are rampin' up the hatin'
The President seems satisfied, he's Biden his time
Well, I feel it should be a crime
For the future of the entire nation
Stop the self-admiration and adoration
Start legislating and regulating
Your isolating is so frustrating
You may as well be masturbating.
Keep up the good work! Great job!